Highland Chieftain by Hannah Howell Page B

easier with his absence. Putting away the basket, and her cloak, she went looking for Margaret who had only just been set down. She found the little girl sitting beneath the tree with Cathan. She went and sat down with them.
    â€œAre ye done for the day then, Cathan?” Bethoc asked.
    â€œAye,” he muttered.
    â€œOuch,” said Margaret, and grabbed his hand, ignoring his attempts to get it free as she showed it to Bethoc.
    â€œâ€™Tis all right. Colin tended it.”
    Seeing the bandage and smelling the herbal scent of the cream she put on such injuries, she had to nod. He had done well, which told her he watched every time she tended their injuries. She took Cathan’s hand in hers and carefully examined the whole thing before letting go.
    â€œAye, he did a verra fine job as weel. I will change the bandage after we sup.”
    â€œI dinnae ken why he made me come sit here. I can still work with this hand.”
    Bethoc looked at the hand he held up and winced as it was filthy. “Nay, ye cannae and that is that.”
    Cathan looked at his hand and frowned. “It is nay hurt so I can.”
    â€œIt is dirty. If ye get any dirt on your hurt hand it could be bad.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI really dinnae ken but I do ken that clean is better. Mayhap ye can come in, wash that hand, and give me some help with the meal.”
    He did not look very happy about it, but he followed her inside along with Margaret. She started another stew using the meat left from the other night. Soon, as she fell into the rhythm of preparing the meal, her thoughts began to wander.
    Thinking of Callum brought a flush to her cheeks. She knew she should not allow him to kiss her but she also knew she could not wait for him to do so again. He was a handsome fellow and there was a kindness in him that was hard to resist. So hard, she knew she would be slipping back there as soon as she could.
    She wondered if this was what her mother had felt. If so, it was rather easy to see how she could have become lost in dreams as her real life had worsened. Bethoc just wished the woman had had the strength to recall that there were children around her that needed help. She knew she never would, never could, forget.
    The boys sat at the table once they had washed up. Her father had arrived and was sullenly drinking ale. Bethoc always got tense when she saw him drinking as she could never be sure what might stir his anger then. The boys watched him carefully as they waited for their meal. It was evident that they understood the danger that came with Kerr drinking.
    It occurred to Bethoc that this was how all their mealtimes went. There were times when it was better but they grew fewer and fewer as time slipped by. She wondered what it would be like to simply sit and have a meal filled with talk, laughter, and good companionship. It would be wondrous, she thought. Perhaps, if she was very fortunate, she would have that.
    If she married, she thought, and suddenly frowned. She was more than old enough to be married yet her father had never made an effort to match her up with anyone. While she was pleased he had not done so with the friends he occasionally brought round, it was curious. It could have brought him some money as some men were more than ready to pay for a young wife. It was odd that her father, who was always on the hunt for a way to get money without working for it, would not think to use his own daughter. She doubted she would make him rich but she was sure she would add a fair number of coins to his purse.
    Shaking away such thoughts, she began to serve the food. As she sat down to eat and help young Margaret eat her food, she wondered about asking her father why he had not seen to her marriage. Just as quickly she decided not to say a word. Now that she had met Callum, even if he was not the man for her, she could not envision marrying anyone her father picked out. It was better if he never had a thought about it,